Even Darkness Has a Heart
by amy-beilschmidt
Summary: Pitch Black has fallen to pieces. No one believes in him anymore. That is, until he meets Lethia. Saving her from an abusive mother and whiny sister, he plans to marry this girl and pursue with his plan to cast the world in fear. Rated T for violence and gore.
1. Love At First Sight

V

_Face it, Pitch, no one believes in you anymore._

He hid in the shadows, watching children play games on the sidewalk, people walk alongside the street to whatever destination pleased their minds. He listened talking about their hearts' desires, and men talking about wooing such ladies. Pathetic. No fear. No nightmares. No horror. No death. What had this world come to? Not even the children cast a quick glance at the darkness to make sure nothing would jump out to grab them.

He moved along to the next alley and looked on; no children, bikes humming along, businessman negotiating. He moved again; dogs fighting and yelping, a cat running across the road, school girls playing hopscotch and jumping rope. He moved then to the next alley; protesters. Then to the next, and the next, and the next, and then…

He stopped.

_Who is she?_

He had caught sight of a lone girl. She was gorgeous. Her with long, wavy black hair that shone like ebony silk; with pale skin, white as the snow on the ground; with lips red as fresh-shed blood. She sat not too far from him, on a wrought-iron bench, clad in a long, black, Victorian dress, writing in a metal journal with a pitch black quill.

_Pitch Black…how touching…_

He had to hang on to the wall, he was so infatuated.

_My God, she is beautiful! What I would give to have her here with me in the shadows! What I would give to sit next to her, to kiss her hand and caress her cheek! What I would give…for her to be able to see me…_

Her brow furrowed, and just as if he had spoken his heart aloud, she looked up, into the shadows, into his eyes. He stopped, unmoving, frozen. He was scared. Scared! He, the Boogey Man, Pitch Black, was scared, genuinely afraid of her cold gaze! But this was a different kind of fear, a new fear, a fear that boiled within his stomach and tightened his throat. And just as he was about to turn and run…

She smiled.

_ She can see me._

It hit him hard in the gut and even harder when he realized that he couldn't turn back. He had to go up to her; he had no choice. As he walked up to the bench, his mind went off on a tangent. What should he say? What should he do? Should he sit? Stay standing? Should he try to befriend her, or go straight to romancing her?

Yards had become centimeter, and, putting his arms behind his back, he looked down into her blue eyes and smiled.

"Why is such a beautiful creature sitting alone?" he asked her.

"Because no one wishes to sit with me," was her answer.

"But I wish to sit with you," he said, swiftly taking the spot next to her. She kept her head down, but a smile still decorated her face.

"You can see me?" he inquired.

"Of course."

But all the others seem to see right through me."

"Of course."

"But why?"

"Because I believe."

His heart-he had a heart?-skipped a beat. She believed in him. She _believed_ in the Boogey Man. But…

"Do you fear me?"

"No."

No?

"I fear what you do."

"Oh? And what is it you think I do?"

"You scare people. You take their greatest fears and place them before their eyes."

"So you're afraid of me?"

She laughed. "No."

"But you just said—"

"Anyone can scare."

This was true. He had seen how people scared each other; how they scared their friends, their enemies, their children. She was right; anyone could do it.

He sighed heavily. "Then I have no purpose."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "How often do you try to scare people?"

"Every day and night I try, but to no avail."

"Even children?"

"How can I scare them if they don't believe in me?"

She put a free hand on top of his, for he had earlier grabbed a hold of her other. "I'll tell you what. Come to my house tonight, and I'll help you to scare my sister."

His face lit up. "You would do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you," she answered, standing up and gathering her belongings.

"I have to go. My mother will have a fit if I'm not home before dark."

Pitch looked up into the sky; it was beginning to darken. And as she turned to walk home, he realized he had forgotten something.

"You haven't told me your name!"

She stopped and faced him. "My name? It's Lethia."

It was a beautiful name, a wondrous sound. _Lethia_.

"It means sweet oblivion."

Sweet, sweet oblivion indeed.

"How seductive. And I'm—"

"Please," she interrupted, "I know who you are."

"Lethia, you had better be making my dinner!"

"I am, Mother. Can't you smell it?"

"I smell a bunch of burnt popcorn! I swear, child, if I go in there and there's something wrong with that meal, I'll brand your cheek with the back of my hand!"

"Yes, Mother." There was no way she had messed up this time; she had followed the recipe carefully and precisely.

Her mother came in shortly thereafter, took one look into the saucepan, and screamed.

"What is this mess? How dare you disrespect me by ruining my dinner!" She smacked Lethia's face as hard as she could, and said, after grabbing her forearm and holding it tightly, "go to your room for the rest of the night, and don't come out until morning!"

She threw her daughter onto the ground, where her head hit a corner. Blood gushed forth from her head and raced down her cheeks and chin. She scrambled to get to her feet, darted up the stairs and to her bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

As crimson water dripped onto the floor, Lethia clenched her fists and screamed. She kicked the bed and thrashed her limbs. She was so angry, that she picked up the little glass faeries and centaurs that were on her dresser and threw them against the wall. Shattered glass cut into her feet as she stamped on them, and her blood pooled around the shining crystals.

She was preparing for another blow when she suddenly heard a tap at her window. She angrily whirled around and came face to face with none other than the dark man she had encountered not three hours earlier.

Oh, how relieved she was to see him! That handsome, pale face with yellow eyes and black hair that stuck up so famously. He smiled at her through the panes, and she smiled back. She put her hands to the glass, and he followed suit. She was so close to him, so close to touching his cold hands.

Lethia opened the window to allow him to step in and onto the floor.

"You're awfully late. I was beginning to worry about you," she said, closing the window.

"I didn't mean to leave you so alone." He paused. "What happened to your head?" he asked after seeing the blood on her face.

"Oh, it's just a scratch." She touched the open wound and grimaced at the pain.

"Nonsense; you're hurt." He stepped up to her and wiped the blood away from her cheeks and uncut skin. The gash brought forth no more, but it needed to be cleaned and dressed.

"Let's hope it doesn't get infected," he told her.

"What do you know about first aide?"

He stopped what he was doing. "Nothing. I was actually going to leave that to you."

She laughed at him. "I wouldn't dream of having it any other way." She turned to her door and stared into it, as if another world lie just beyond its frame. Pitch took her hand and kissed it softly, drawing ever so close to her, so that he could feel her body pressing against his. He softly whispered to her.

"And what of your sister?"

"She's nine and scares easily; I do it all the time. And she doesn't believe in you; in fact, she's never even heard of you."

"Well, that's about to change." He kissed her neck and released her to take care of herself. In her absence to the bathroom, he looked around the room and saw the horrible mess that stared back. He didn't judge Lethia by her anger and fury and how she expressed it. But he did worry, even more so when he saw the bloodied shards and red footprints on the carpet. And when Lethia returned, he looked not only at her cleaned forehead, but also down at her bandaged feet.

"Stop worrying so much," she assured him, following his gaze.

"Take me to your sister, then. It'll distract me from you."

"Yes, of course," she replied, leading him downstairs. She ushered him in a dark sitting room around the corner and told him to wait; she was eating dinner. With that, Lethia sat on the bottom steps and waited for her sister.

It wasn't long before the patter of small feet came quickly towards the stairs, and Lethia looked up to her small figure, smiling softly.

"Kaia, what are you afraid of?" Lethia pondered.

"Nothing," she replied confidently.

"Really? Not even the dark?" Lethia could feel Pitch's sneer.

"Nope."

"Well, I am," she rose, "I'm afraid of the dark."

The thought of her evil older sister being scared of anything frightened tiny Kaia, and she was silent for a moment.

"W-Why?" she stammered.

"Evil things live in the dark. Things like the Boogey Man!" Lethia jumped at her sibling, who yelped like a hurt puppy. "He hides under your bed, and in the closet, and in the shadows," then, continuing in a whisper, "he even hides in the darkness of the sitting room."

Kaia slowly peered around Lethia into the sitting room. She saw the sofas and chairs, and the tables with lamps.

And a face.

A face that smiled menacingly at her. As soon as she saw it, she screamed and ran away.

"Mommy! It's the Boogey Man!"

"The what?"

"The Boogey Man!"

"Boogey Ma—LETHIA!"

"Oh God."

Lethia turned and sprinted towards the shadows, towards Pitch. He opened his arms and caught her, silently disappearing with her before her mother could catch her.


	2. Change of Character

The journey was quick and dark, and it ended roughly. One second, she was running towards Pitch, the next, she was crashing down onto a stone floor.

Slowly and painfully, Lethia rolled over and sat up to examine her surroundings. She had no idea where she was. It was dark, aside from a sliver of light that shone on her. She looked up and saw only a white circle that she didn't quite know what to make of. Continuing to look around, Lethia could barely make out the faint outlines of some sort of piles or small buildings scattered about. Standing up, she noticed that she had fallen on a bridge, and when she looked over, she could see only black.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" cooed a familiar voice from behind; it was Pitch.

"What is it?"

"This is my home."

"It's…dark."

"It has to be. I'm the Boogey man."

She smiled softly, then looked upwards.

What's that light?"

"The outside world."

"How did we get here?"

"The shadows."

"Then why—"

"You ask a lot of questions," Pitch interjected, silencing Lethia. He walked over to her, putting his arms around her, and whispered in her ear,

"Just relax. You're here with me now, not with that wretched mother and sister of yours. I'm here for you, here to protect you. You don't need to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," she retorted sternly.

"Good, because this is your new home."

Lethia looked again at her "new home". It wasn't the prettiest thing she'd seen, but it certainly had that Gothic feeling she liked. She revealed her thoughts to Pitch, who emitted a short "ha".

"I made my home. Made it out of this cavern I discovered and abandoned bed. You see, it's in my nature to hide under beds. The Man in the Moon told me so when he created me."

She ignored the Man in the Moon comment. "It's wonderful and homey, and I'm glad I get to live here," she assured him.

"My shadows are your shadows," he said to her, giving her a large, antic bow. She giggled.

"You're very playful."

He chuckled and pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her head.

"I tend to be that way only around the Guardians."

Lethia looked up at him. "The who?"

"The Guardians. Five legendary figures that 'protect the children of the world'." He made a face as he said the last part.

"Legendary figures? You mean like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?"

"And the Tooth Fairy, and the Sand Man, and…"

"And who?"

"Jack Frost," he growled hatefully, "but some of them go by different names."

"North and Bunnymund."

"You are very wise. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Not for long. Have you ever thought of being immortal?"

"I have actually. I'd love to stay young and never die."

"I would like for that, too. You are very beautiful; I can't keep my eyes off you."

"You're pretty good looking yourself."

"You must be tired," he said quickly in an attempt to change the subject. Lethia took the hint, especially after seeing a reddish tint appear in his cheeks.

"Very," was her reply.

Pitch guided her through the dark halls, a hand on hand on her hip. Lethia couldn't see where she was going, but he seemed to, so she tried to follow him as best she could. Would she be able to see in the dark if she were immortal?

Six long hallways later, Pitch found the room he was looking for. Second to last on the right, it looked a lot different than the others; it had a door. It was black with dark, fiery designs carved into it. Lethia touched it to see what it was made of, but that didn't solve the mystery.

"It's made from a special dark magic," Pitch informed her before turning the handle and backing in. She slowly walked in after him, trying to in the scene all at once.

It was large and dimly lit by an unknown source, made of a small cave that was decorated with stalactites and the most alluring and largest blue opals she'd ever seen. Four columns had grown artfully in the center, where a bed was put together; the sheets and pillows were all black.

Pitch approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Even the Boogey Man needs rest."

"It's gorgeous. Is this your room?"

"It isn't much, but—,"

"I don't care. It's beautiful."

"Rest here for awhile. I have some business I need to tend to."

"But—,"

"No questions, no comments, no complaints; just rest. You need it."

Lethia didn't try to pursue the argument, but instead sauntered over to the bed, with Pitch in tow. She lied down and covered herself up, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

Pitch exited the room and returned to the main hall. He looked up to the white circle ahead, scowling, but still decided to vanish to a nearby cliff to have a little talk with the Man in the Moon.

"You don't understand! I must have her! She's the only one who understands me!"

Pitch was standing atop his crag, yelling up at the Moon in anger.

"Please!" he begged.

There was silence for a moment as Pitch listened to the Man in the Moon.

"Yes, yes! Thank you!"

But the Moon still wasn't done. Pitch's face as he was told the conditions in which he would face if he to have Lethia as his own.

"What? No! No, no, no, why?"

He still wasn't finished.

Pitch groaned.

"How will I carry on my legacy?"

He turned to the Moon, but he said no more. Pitch yelled and kicked the ground, returning to his home and to Lethia.

He stood in his blackness for quite some time, thinking about what the Man in the Moon had said. Pitch could marry Lethia, and she would be made immortal. But he wouldn't be able to live without her, literally. And there would never be little Boogey men running around frantically; he was rather depressed.

Something fell from behind, disturbing his thoughts—a rock maybe—and echoed around the cavern. Pitch turned around, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for the source.

A flash of white, gray, green. Yellow sand fell from above and gently landed on his shoulders. As he hastily brushed them off, he heard a faint whisper not too far off to his left.

"What is he doing?" it said.

"Nothing; just standing there," replied a female.

"He's got to be up to somethin'," inquired an Australian voice.

"Shh!" demanded…

"FROST!"

Pitch stared bitterly as a small boy with white hair carefully stepped before hi, staff ready for attack.

"Pitch! It's been so long! How've you been?" Jack asked.

"What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you. You've been so quiet lately, we were getting a little worried."

"You know I can't do anything anymore."

"That's not true," said the Australian, jumping out from behind a pile of dirt, "you scared someone last night."

"JI had help."

Jack laughed. "The Boogey Man needed help scaring someone?"

The owner of the first voice now appeared, laughing hysterically.

"And Man in Moon said it was little girl!"

"Stop it!" Pitch yelled. The others laughed along with North.

"A little girl?" said jack, "You're kidding!"

Pitch put his hands to his face; he could feel that burning sensation in his face again.

"That's so sad," said the now visible Tooth Fairy, smiling; Sand Man, who came out with her, laughed soundlessly.

"Seriously, though, you're not doing anything. What's going on?" Jack interrogated.

"I—,"

"Too lazy?"

"No—,"

"Did you give up?"

"No—,"

"Are you dying?"

"NO!"

"Then what's wrong?"

"No one believes in me anymore!"

"What about little girl?" North asked.

"She's different."

"Yea, you had help," Bunny teased.

"No! She'd never even heard of me!"

The Guardians were silent.

"I scared her with help from her older sister. She told the tale and her sister saw me. She was scared out of her wits," he said with a small smile.

"How'd you find this girl?" Bunny asked.

"I saw her sister sitting alone, and we started talking—,"

"Aw, did you fall in love?" Tooth pestered, getting into his face.

"No!" Pitch was blushing again.

"Look at his face! He's totally in love! Haha!" North pointed.

"Stop it!" Pitch demanded.

"What's your master plan?" Jack continued, frowning.

"Master plan? I don't have one."

"Yeah you do. The Moon said you did."

"That's not what he meant—,"

"Then what was he talking about? What are you doing?"

"I'm—I'm—,"

"Spit it out!"

"I'm getting married!"

This dumbness was more shocking.

"You're lying," Jack breathed.

"No, I'm not."

"You're lying!"

"No!"

"Who is she?"

"She's the girl—,"

"Why? You just met her."

"She knows me, _understands_ me—,"

"Where is she?"

"Sleeping—,"

Jack turned and ran off towards the bedroom.

"No, Jack! Leave her alone.

Pitch darted after him and tried to catch him before he got to the room. Too late; by the time Pitch had reached the chamber, Jack was already inside and halfway across the floor. But he had stopped dead in his tracks, having seen the sleeping Lethia on the bed. He slowly backed out, mouth agape, eyes wide, and bumped into Pitch, who was standing in the doorframe. Jack looked up at him, and Pitch glowered down at him; he was livid.

Grabbing him by the scruff of his sweatshirt, he pulled Jack away and closed the door. He carried the boy back to the others and threw him onto the ground.

Jack stood up and went to his place.

"What did I tell you?" Pitched hissed.

Jack was silent as the Guardians stared at him.

"What happened, mate?" Bunny asked.

"She's—she's real. There is a girl," Jack answered whimpishly.

You mean—,"

"He was telling the truth…" Tooth finished.

"Get out. All of you," Pitch demanded sternly.

They didn't ask any further questions. North threw a globe for a portal, and the five guardians disappeared, leaving Pitch behind to mind Lethia.


	3. A New Life

Months had gone by without any extra visits from the guardians, and no more meetings with the Moon. All that Pitch had accomplished was scaring two people, both of which were elderly women; he knew as soon as that reached North, new problems were going to arise.

After endless days of practice with absolutely no results, Pitch was reminded of his plans to marry Lethia. He had told the Guardians, with more confidence than he'd have liked, that he was going to marry her, and she still didn't know this. He hadn't even found a ring.

The actual wedding was even more difficult. With no Justice of the Peace, no real place to get married, and, sadly, no friends, he was going to need serious help.

One year, maybe longer, had come and gone, and Lethia was still with Pitch. Their relationship had become stronger and a little more intimate, and she was still as beautiful as ever. He knew that if he didn't propose now…well, she wasn't going to live forever. So, finally, one night while she was doing nothing…

"Lethia, come with me."

"Why?"

"Please, just come." He took her hand and brought her to his cliff. The skies were clear, the stars sparkled like tiny gems, and the Moon shone full; he wanted him to witness this. Maybe he could help.

"Sit with me." Lethia did as she was told.

"What's up?"

"We've been together for awhile…"

"Yes."

"And you know how I feel about you…"

"Go on."

"Please tell me your feelings are mutual."

"Pitch, I love you more than you could ever dream of."

He sighed with relief and pulled her close.

"There's something I must tell you. I've wanted to say this ever since the day I met you, I was just too scared to say anything. I was afraid you might say no…"

"Pitch, just say it."

He swallowed hard, took her hands in his, looked deep into her icy blue eyes…

"Marry me."

Lethia was more confused than excited, even though her stomach did several flips. "Is that a question?"

"Lethia, please, will you marry me?"

She stared into his pleading yellow eyes; he really wanted this.

And so did she.

"Yes," she choked with tears and the biggest smile she could muster.

Pitch smiled wide and hugged her waist, nearly knocking her over.

"Lethia, you have no idea what this means to me, what it's going to mean to you," stood up, "but there's still so much we have to do. We need to figure out a ring for you…"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You don't have a ring?"

"Well, no, not exactly…"

"What do you mean 'not exactly'? You were supposed to get the ring _before_ you proposed."

"Well how was I supposed to know that? And I don't even know what you like! What if I got you something that made you want to vomit?"

"Okay, now you're being over-dramatic."

"Over-dramatic?! How am I being over-dramatic?"

"You're yelling at me, for starters. And you're making too big a deal out of this."

He stopped and looked down at his feet. "I just want this to be perfect for you."

Lethia lifted his chin so that his eyes were back to hers.

"There is nothing more perfect than marrying you. Calm down and stop stressing. It's all going to work out. I promise."

Pitch smiled at her, but only frowned again and groaned after remembering all of his problems.

"Are we going to have a reception, big party, or just get married and move along?"

"Let's just forget all of that; it'll take a huge load off your shoulders."

"And the ring?"

"Those opals in your room are beautiful. Start with that."

"And vows?"

Lethia was stuck on that one. Not a single priest from her hometown—or anywhere on Earth for that matter—would want to marry her to Pitch; she was Goth, and that was very ostracized in her society of humans.

"Ask the Man in the Moon," she suggested.

Pitch hesitated before turning to the sky and asking for help. Lethia couldn't hear what the Moon was saying, but from the look on Pitch's face, it seemed to be good.

"You can help? Oh, good!" he said.

But immediately following his joyful outcry, there was silence, broken by a loud yell from Pitch.

"No! No! No! Anything but that!"

Silence.

"This is outrageous! There must be another way!"

"What is he saying?" Lethia asked worriedly.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Pitch droned to himself.

"Pitch? Pitch?" She grabbed his shoulders and held him still. "PITCH! What did he say?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, his mouth moving dumbly, but he finally found the voice to answer.

"He wants North to oversee the vows."

All the breath had left Lethia's body.

"North?" she croaked.

"Yes. And, of course, if that happens, the other four will be there. Along with whatever creatures they have."

"But, Pitch—,"

"No. The Moon is right; it's our only option."

Both stood speechless together, holding onto each other for dear life.

"So where would you like to do this thing?" Pitch asked.

"In a crystal forest," Lethia whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"In a crystal forest. You know how in the winter, the bare trees freeze up and it looks like a bunch of crystals are growing on them?"

"Yes…"

"Well, that's where I want to get married.'

"Does it have to be somewhere Frost will feel welcome?"

"Could you put your hatefulness for the Guardians aside for just one day? It's our wedding, for Pete's sake."

Pitch opened his mouth to say "no", but changed his mind and closed.

"Thank you."

Just then, Lethia heard a voice.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That voice."

"No. What'd it say?"

"It called my name."

"From where?"

"From…" she heard it again, "up there." She pointed to the sky.

"The Moon…"

"He's talking to me?"

"I can't hear him; there must be something he wants from you personally."

"Shh," she snapped. "Yes…yes…what? No! Why!"

"What's he want?"

"He wants me to—,"

The Moon interrupted her.

"To keep it a secret," she hung her head.

"Darling, if he said keep it a secret, keep it a secret. The Man in the Moon has a good reason for it, and I respect that. He does it to all of us."

Fabulous. They weren't even married and she was already keeping secrets from him. _Way to kill the trust factor at an early stage, Moon._

"All that I can say is that I'm going to be gone for a few months. It's part of his plan."

"Can you tell me more?" Pitch asked, "I don't want to be left too much in the dark."

Lethia turned an ear to the Moon.

"It's a sort of training…"

The Moon spoke once more.

"And I have to leave now."


	4. Absence

Watching her leave was the hardest thing Pitch had ever done, and would probably ever do. Neither of them knew exactly where she was going, and he agonized internally as her face reflected a fear he thought only he could evoke. He stood rooted to the ground, watching his beloved disappear into the shadows of a woods, not to return until who knows when.

Her awayness was Pitch's first nightmare.

It was emotionally excruciating. Every night, all Pitch could do was cry himself to sleep. He dreamed of darkness and whispering voices; of evil laughter, screaming victims, and physical torture. Sometimes he could see dim fires burning heaps of dirt and food, small, emaciated children hiding in the dark corners of a stone city, or could hear the growling of lions or roars of some other large cat.

He never left his lair. He was lucky if he got out of bed. Whenever he was up and about, it was only to pace the halls and bridge, thinking only of Lethia.

There were times when her absence was unbearable, and he would lie on the ground, sobbing and groveling for his fiancée's return, He begged and begged, until he could hear the howls of the night's gray wolves outside.

Every night, Pitch would scream at the Man in the Moon, cursing him for inflicting such a horrible suffering on the King of Fear.

"Why have you done this to me?!" he would squall, "I have done nothing! You have taken away what is dearest to me, and I feel as though I might die!"

The Moon never said anything.

Once in a while, the Guardians would visit. Pitch was never happy about this, especially since it was without a notice of any kind—they would just show up unannounced—, but the first time really set him off.

"What do you want?" he barked in Tooth's face.

"We heard you were depressed," she answered.

"Since when have you ever cared about me?"

"Never," Bunny said, looking a little irritated.

"Then go away."

"But now is little different," said North, "Life not fun when you are always here doing nothing."

"I said go away," Pitch repeated.

"But we want to help," insisted Tooth.

"NO!" His bellow echoed around the cave. Tooth hung her head and turned away, nudging Jack forward. Pitch frowned down at him.

"Well?"

"Uhm…well, we just want to know if there's anything we can do to help, or make you feel better." He smiled awkwardly.

"Can you bring her back to me?"

"No—,"

"Then there is nothing you can do to ease my pain," he replied, turning his back and walking away.

"Are you sure?" Jack called.

Pitch paused, then looked over his shoulder and said,

"Everyone wants to be happy; no one wants to be in pain. But you can't have a rainbow without any rain."

The visits that followed were shorter and less eventful, but Pitch was still angered by them, even if he had gotten used to their spontaneity. They didn't help his current situation, and they constantly reminded him that Lethia was gone.

"You're making it worse," he would tell them, but they kept coming back.

There was only one short period of time when his thoughts were off Lethia, and that was when Jack and Tooth came for a visit.

And they had come alone.

"Ah, do I detect a hint of love from our Guardians of Fun and Memories?"

"Shut up, Pitch," was Jack's reply.

"I don't think so. Wasn't it you who mocked me for being in love?"

"No, that was Tooth."

"Oh, so you shift the blame to her, I see."

"Actually, Pitch," Tooth intervened, "we all made fun of you."

"Thanks, that's so kind of you. Now, what's with you two? Why'd you come alone?"

"We just wanted to check on you."

"Really? Are you sure it wasn't because you needed a place to hide a secret romance?"

"No!" both shouted, blushing.

"Oh, but indeed it is. It's my turn to laugh at you, but I'm afraid it will have to wait until Lethia comes home."

Just then, all of Pitch's suffering came flooding back into him, and he could feel his eyes beginning to water.

"Go away," he demanded, walking around them and to his room to cry. The two Guardians looked at each other, shrugged, and turned down a different hallway.

He never saw them leave, but he didn't care. He knew that they were falling for each other, if they hadn't already, and he didn't want to even look at them.

That was the last Pitch had seen of the Guardians during the time he was alone, and it was also the only night Pitch didn't dream of darkness.

He was standing outside on his snow-covered cliff, and the sun was shining brightly down on him, melting the snow at a quick pace. Pitch stared blankly at the healthy green grass and tiny wildflowers that peeped through the frost.

He caught sight of what looked to be dark, purple flames burning the grass at the edge of the cliff. It got thicker and taller, forming into some kind of demented looking creature. Its blood-red eyes bore into Pitch's, but neither was intimidated. The monster's gaze shot passed him, and he turned to see what the distraction was.

He was nearly run over by a speeding white light, much like a comet. It rammed into the black thing, and the two struggled roughly, yelling and screaming, biting and scratching, violently fighting and beating each other until the black creature kicked the white one into the air and it fell with a loud crash onto the ground. Pitch watched as the black attacked what looked not like a comet, but a young, skinny boy in blue, tearing his throat open with its teeth and ripping his heart out with its claws. Blood flew everywhere as he was decapitated and his head tossed aside like a piece of garbage. The monster roared and thrashed wildly in victory, screeching at the lifeless body on the ground. "I win, you lose. Now look at what you've been reduced to," it seemed to taunt.

Evil and darkness had had won over the light, which pleased Pitch very much; it made him feel accomplished and powerful. The creature returned to the edge of the cliff, taking a final look back at him before disappearing with a loud _whoosh_, leaving nothing behind except the dead child. Pitch turned to the body. Somehow it looked familiar. He walked up to it and gasped when he saw the face. It was…

He jolted awake, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. What a dream! So much violence and blood and horror!

His excitement ceased when he heard footsteps outside in the hall. They walked up to his door and stopped; he could see the shadows.

The knob turned, the door opened, and in its frame stood Lethia.


	5. Rebirth: Part I

Pitch couldn't speak; he couldn't breathe.

"Lethia…Lethia!" he shouted, rushing over to her. He fell to his knees, kissed her hands, and looked up into her…

Black eyes.

He was confused. _Black? I thought they were blue._ No, they were black, and not just the irises; each eye had been taken over by the dark color, almost as if her pupils had expanded and grown over their whites.

And it wasn't just her eyes that had changed, either; her entire look and character were different, too. She had the same face, hair, and body, but her usual black gown was gone. In its place were black pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and black boots that went up to her knees. A black, hooded cloak rested on her shoulder, clipped in place with a silver nonagon encrusted with a large emerald that gleamed with some kind of house crest.

She stared blankly ahead, at nothing, hypnotized. Pitch stood up and stared at her expressionless face. _What's happened to her?_

"Lethia?" He snapped his fingers in front of her nose. "Lethia?" He shook her body, trying to break the trance. "Lethia!"

It was no use. Wherever she had gone, she was still there.

"Why? Why?" he moaned, grabbing her and carrying her to the bridge. He stood her underneath the Moon, so that her features were clearer and brighter.

"What have you done?" he shouted at the Moon. "You took her away from me for seven long months without telling me anything, and now you send me someone entirely different!"

The Moon's light began to brighten, and just like that, Lethia's black eyes faded back to blue, and she fainted.

"Lethia!"

Pitch caught her before she hit the ground, turning her face towards him. She groaned and opened her eyes.

"Pitch? Am I home?"

"You are, my darling, you are home."

She smiled up at him, but then frowned again.

"What's wrong?" Pitch asked.

"It was horrible," she mumbled back.

"Tell me all about it."

"Not here."

"Then where?"

She looked up at him, then at the Moon. Standing up, she took Pitch's arm, and the two disappeared into a shadow, reappearing on the roof of a townhouse. It was nighttime, and the Moon sparkled along with his fellow stars.

"I thought I'd never see you two again," she told Pitch.

"Us two?"

"You and the Moon."

"Oh… Where were you?"

Lethia sat down, along with Pitch, and stared into the sky.

"I'm not really sure where I was. It was some sort of dark realm, a city of old stone shrouded in eternal night. The only light that ever shown was from small fires, surrounded by the ugliest people I'd ever seen."

"What were they like?"

"They looked real mean and gross, like they had the Red Death. And they smelt rancid."

They sat in silence for a brief moment.

"I didn't know what to do," Lethia continued, "I was scared, afraid that I might not make it out. I spent a lot of time hiding away from the people and animals."

"Were they looking for you?"

"It appeared that way. The people were always following me. Some sent their dogs after me. It took me forever to realize that I had to fight to survive.

"I made my own weapons and ran around in my dress, killing any animal I came across. I tried not to kill people, but eventually I had to; I needed a change of wardrobe."

Pitch laughed. "You have good tastes."

She smiled.

"A certain person's family found out I killed their child for clothes, and they tried to return the favor, which is where I got this," she pulled the shirt sleeve off her right shoulder to reveal a long, thick, white scar. "I had to struggle to get away so that I could patch it up.

"But it wasn't just people and their dogs. There were a lot of cats, BIG cats, mostly lions and other spotted ones."

"Spotted?"

"Cheetahs, jaguars, panthers, everywhere. You had to be extremely careful around them. They were vicious and didn't care how nice you were. You could give them a home, warm bed, and food and they'd still attempt to annihilate you.

"Eventually, I came across this little tent thing. An old woman lived there—and I mean old; she had to have been alive for about a million years."

"What'd she look like?" Pitch asked.

"She looked dead. Her skin was all gray and wrinkly, and she had large bald patches. She had, like, three teeth, and milky eyes, and boils everywhere, and ratty clothes—,"

"That's enough," Pitch interrupted. She shot him a "well you asked" look. "What's your point?"

"She showed me how to manipulate the shadows."

"Manipulate the shadows…"

"She told me what the Moon was planning to do with me."

"Which is…"

"Rule over you."

Pitch already knew that, but he wanted to make sure she knew it as well.

"But that's not until you marry me," Pitch informed her, "but it seems that you get to use the shadows a little ahead of time."

"To an extent; I can only go from one place to the other. However, the old lady did say I could inflict damage with the shadows, but that I'd have to figure out how to do that on my own."

"How sad," he said, smiling softly.

"As soon as I learned how to fight, I started to venture farther into the world I was in. At this point, it was darker and less inhabited, more woodsy. It was worse than before, because whatever people you saw were the ones that jumped out at you with knives and swords. This gave me ample opportunities to try out the shadow jumping."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah, it makes sense. Anyways, I eventually reached a little town with crazy looking huts and even crazier looking beings. Even the children were nuts. It was dead quiet, except for a metal building at the exact center of the burg."

"What was it?"

"I don't know, but all that came from it were screams, horrible, high-pitched squeals."

The more Pitch thought about it, the more he realized that the story resembled the dreams he'd had while she was gone.

"Lethia?"

"Yes?'

"Your story…well…ok, while you were gone, I had strange dreams…"

"And?"

"I think I was dreaming what you were seeing."

She smiled thoughtfully. "It seems that the Man in the Moon wasn't cutting you off entirely after all," she said, scooting as close to him as she could.

"Did you go inside?"

"The torture house? Yeah, but I don't want to go into detail. Believe me, you don't want to know what went on in that house.'

He actually did want to know, but he didn't want to have to make her relive it. He figured seven months was enough.

"I set it on fire."

"I'm glad you did. Now you'll never have to worry about it ever again."

"Just imagine how many more of those places existed there, and how many could possibly exist here in our world." She hugged her knees. Pitch put an arm around her shoulder.

"I ran as fast and as far away as I could. The people were so angry. I darted through another dark forest that never ended, and when it finally did, I was out in an open field. And guess who was there to greet me."

"Who?"

"The Man in the Moon. He said it was time to go home."

Pitch looked at the Moon and mentally thanked him. "And now here you are," he said, hugging Lethia tightly. She looked up at him and smiled a very small smile.

"Here I am."

She leaned forward and kissed him, long and passionately, under the full, white Moon and his twinkling stars.


	6. Rebirth: Part II

After that date, the two began preparations for their wedding. Pitch had fashioned a ring out of heated rock and an opal that had been cut and polished to perfection. Lethia spent most of her time hidden around the caverns, thinking of ideas for her dress. She wanted a train that wasn't too long and that was rounded, coming to a small point at the end. It would be open in the front, made of silk, sleeveless, and black with a dripping red design around the top of the corset. She waved off the idea of a veil.

She hid her sketches in her room behind the bed so that Pitch wouldn't find them; she'd start making it eventually, but for now, there were other matters to worry about.

Pitch and Lethia were outside their home, sitting on the support beams of the bed. The Moon shone brightly, even though many clouds rolled by in front of him. The three were arguing as to how to get North to be the Justice of the Peace.

"Let's just go over there and ask nicely," Lethia suggested.

"No! I'd rather just have the Man in the Moon present the situation to North and that be the end of it," Pitch argued.

"That can't be the end of it!" She retorted. "How about the Moon tells North what's going on, and then he can come here and talk it over with us."

"Absolutely not! I won't have North in my home again!"

"Your home?"

"Our home. It doesn't matter. All I care about is getting this thing over with as quick as possible."

Lethia was silent with shock. Seeing his blunder, Pitch regretted having ever spoken.

"Lethia, that's not what I meant—,"

She disappeared into a whirl of darkness with a snap, leaving Pitch behind in his grief. He looked up to the Moon and asked, "What have I done?"

His only answer was a gentle "wait" in the wind.

Lethia wiped the tears from her eyes, in fear that they might freeze on her cheeks, before walking up to the big red doors and knocking. It was a loud, booming knock, and it was shortly answered by a tall, hairy creature on the other side of the door.

"Is North in?" she asked it.

It was quiet for a minute, but then turned and yelled something foreign to someone she couldn't see. It then stepped aside and allowed her entrance.

The interior was magnificent. Tall, gold pillars stood round, decorated with the finest garlands she'd ever seen. Toys and strange playthings zoomed and shot around the shop, squeaking and beeping and blinking berserk. More of the furry beings were scattered around, making models and painting things. And at the center of all the madness was North, working hard at a giant globe that glittered with tiny, gold lights.

As Lethia walked in his direction, she tripped on something, barely catching herself in time. She turned to see what it was, and was met with a tiny person in a miniature red suit and hat.

_An elf…_

It took one look at her, screamed a little pipsqueak scream, and bolted away. It passed a small group of elves nearby, who also ran away at the sight of Lethia. She frowned and put her hood up to her head, careful to hide her face from any other tiny critters.

She finally got to North, but didn't say anything as the robust man did his job. He was working hard and yelling out strange things to his map.

Lethia cleared her throat to get North's attention. He stopped what he was doing and turned around, and the whole shop grew quiet; even the toys refrained from making noises.

"Well, well, well, look who it is!" he said in a very welcoming way. "Mrs. Pitch Black! How are you?"

"We aren't married yet," she told him, uncomfortable at how happy he seemed to see her.

"No? That is shame. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes. Pitch and I haven't been married because we don't have anyone to marry us."

"Why you come to me for your problems?" he said in a rather disappointed tone, turning back towards the globe.

"Because the Man in the Moon wants you to do it."

North paused momentarily.

"Man in Moon said that?" he inquired, looking over his shoulder. Lethia didn't speak, looking at him quite seriously.

"Well… if Man in moon said so… then I guess I will. Where you getting married?"

"In a crystal forest."

His spirits immediately rose again and he faced her.

"That is good idea! When you getting married?"

"Next week, I hope. Also, I was wondering if you knew anyone who can sew."

"Tooth can. Why?"

"I need someone to make my dress."

"Ladies, ladies, Halloween is in five days! Kids' teeth will be falling out like never before! Make sure everyone is ready for this!" Tooth shouted at her little fairies while Lethia stood and watched the blue-green hummingbirds race around the golden palace.

"Tooth, please, can you help? I don't have any of my own time!" she begged the fairy.

"Neither do I! I'm too busy preparing for Halloween! You know how kids are!"

"Yeah, they eat candy until they puke, not until their teeth fall out!"

"You don't know that!"

Lethia was a little bit offended.

"Think about it, Tooth. How many teeth did you actually collect last year on October 31st?"

Tooth stopped fluttering about and thought.

"Very few…"

"Exactly. Now will you help me?"

Tooth looked at Lethia, and then sighed in agreement.

"Fabulous," she said sarcastically. "I'll get my sketches to you…somehow. Until then, thanks." She turned to leave, but Tooth called out after her.

"Is it black?"

Lethia smiled and, without turning around, softly said, "of course."

Pitch was pacing back and forth on the bridge in the Moonlight. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had said to Lethia about their wedding, and the thought of what she'd do or say when she returned made his heart sink.

_How am I going to handle this? How many times will I have to apologize and prove to her how sorry I am? _ Then another thought struck him that made his heart stop altogether. _What if she leaves me?_

"You're overreacting," a voice said. He whipped around and saw Lethia standing in the shadows.

"Lethia!" he shouted, rushing over to her and taking her hands into his and kissing them firmly. "You've learned to read minds!"

"No, you just whisper very loud."

He looked at her cold eyes and frowned.

"What all did I say?"

She didn't answer his question directly, but instead replied, "I will never leave you."

"Lethia, I am so sorry—,"

She interrupted him with a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him.

"I'm not angry. I was before, but I'm not now. I know what you meant."

"Where were you?"

"Thinking. And fixing our problems."

"And?"

"It's all under control."

Pitch hugged her tight and held her in silence. He didn't want to let go. He cherished every second of this moment. He loved the thought of her body taking up the space in his arms. He loved the feel of her cheek against his chest. He loved how she snuggled so close to him.

He loved her. And he wanted her.

"Pitch?

"Yes?" his voice cracked.

"Your heart is beating at an unusual pace."

"We're immortal. Everything is unusual."

"But this is unusual for you."

He'd been caught.

"Lethia, bear with me—,"

Before he knew it, he was yanked and dragged to his room by his arm and forced onto his bed, where he embraced his soon-to-be bride with an undying desire and love that he'd always wanted to share with her.

Five days had gone by, and Lethia's dress had been made and slipped onto her perfectly formed body. Hidden from view by several trees, she stood on a stump as the Tooth Fairy pinned her corset, tightly lacing it soon thereafter.

She fluttered back and looked Lethia up and down. She had a heavy, Gothic style makeup: black lipstick and silvery-gray eyeshadow that popped because of her pale complexion. Her black, silky hair fell down over her thin shoulders in perfect waves, contrasting beautifully with her wedding gown, which exposed her figure exquisitely.

"It's not really my style," Tooth told her, "but you're very pretty."

Lethia smiled.

"That means a lot coming from you."

"So…what happens after all this?"

Lethia glanced at Tooth, frowning.

"It goes back to the way it was."

Tooth hung her head.

"Sorry, but the Guardians hate Pitch, and since I'm marrying him, they have to hate me, too."

"It's a shame how the world works like that."

"Oh well."

Gothic church bells tolled in the distance and a harpsichord began to play a dark tune.

"It's time," Tooth said with a weak smile. Lethia didn't reply, only stepped down from the stump and walked past the fairy.

She stopped at the end of a small, snowy path lined with frozen trees that grew up and over to form a protective canopy. The path led to a large opening that was filled with magical creatures and, Lethia noticed, a few Gothic characters.

The music began to fade, but never ceased, and Lethia's head began to lighten and fuzz. She put a hand to her temple and staggered a bit, causing Tooth to panic.

"Lethia, are you alright?"

She didn't say anything, but emitted a small groan. Butterflies exploded in her torso, and her skin began to burn. And as she strated hyperventilating, everything suddenly stopped. Lethia couldn't hear anything, and felt quite faint, but then she heard voices. They chanted in her ears, sounded so close, but she could see nor hear them. The voices were in a foreign tongue that she didn't understand—Latin, maybe—and she was about to scream, but then a whisper crowed,

"You are first, and we shall follow."

It stopped and the other voices continued. Then it started up again.

"Surrender," it breathed, "you belong to us."

The voices faded altogether, and Lethia could hear the end of the harpsichord's song. It began anew, signaling that she had to walk the aisle. Each step she took down the path from that point slowly brought her to the clearing, and to her beloved groom.

When she came into view, the whole crowd gasped in a hush. Out of the corner of her eye, Lethia saw Jack standing at a distance, smiling in amazement. Sandman was sleeping (_shocker_), and Bunnymund, standing far away, but closer than Jack, didn't have any kind of identifiable expression; his face just looked weird. She looked over to North, who was standing in front of Pitch, and when the King of Fear saw her, his eyes grew wide with astonishment. His features flashed with absolute admiration and awe, and he looked as if might run and take Lethia, stealing her away, never to share or be seen again, he thought her so alluring.

She stood beside him, tall and confident, and he was just the same. North was reading from large, green book adorned with golden Celt designs, but Lethia wasn't paying any attention. Her head was too clouded with happiness and crazy joy.

The vows snapped Lethia out of her trance, and she had missed the first. Good thing she had previously memorized them.

"I do."

North continued, and the rings exchanged, followed by,

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Pitch, you may kiss bride."

They turned to each other, but didn't kiss, not yet. Pitch looked at her, pity and sorrow in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Lethia didn't say anything. They had talked about what was about to happen, and they had put it behind them…until now.

She put her hand on his chest to tell him that it was ok. His mien pained, and he leaned forward, and as soon as their lips made contact, a black shot of electricity dispatched from Pitch's face and into Lethia's, spreading to the ends of her limbs. She moaned, her eyes flashed white, and shadows spilled from her mouth. She fell back and Pitch caught her as her fit continued. Her yelps and screams frightened the Guardians (the Goths didn't respond much), and they sat in stark silence without saying a word. They had never seen anything like it.

The episode finally ended, and Lethia lay still in Pitch's arms, eyes open, unseeing, mouth agape. Pitch looked down at her, and her head slowly turned, so that she, with those haunting white eyes, looked back at him. A loud breath caught in her throat, and she came to, closing her mouth and blinking until the blue returned in her eyes. She stared at Pitch blankly, who smiled down at her.

The audience was still quiet. They still didn't say anything.

The lull was broken by distant screams and ghostly wails that got louder and louder as they got closer, and soon, black shadows and strange forms appeared in the opening of the clearing. They flew over the heads of the Guardians and towards Pitch and Lethia. Lethia quickly stood up and conjured her own shadows, forcing them upon the spirits and throwing them back far enough for her to disappear with Pitch.


	7. Back Home

When the shadows fell and the two could see again, Pitch was staring at a large, black house atop a grand hill. He looked over to Lethia, no longer in her wedding gown, but in a black shirt, low cut black pants, boots, and her cloak, and opened his mouth, wordlessly expressing confusion. She raised an eyebrow.

"What was that?!" he finally spit out.

"I thought we had already talked about what 'that' was."

"No, not that. That legion of shadows!"

"Oh…them…"

"Well?!"

Lethia sighed and looked up the hill.

"They followed me from…the…the uh…"

"Shadow Field?"

"Yeah, there."

"What did they want?"

"Me."

"Of course they did. What else?" He turned to the house. "Now where are we?"

Lethia stepped forward and took Pitch's hand, drawing close to him.

"This is Blackwest Manor."

"Ok, why are we here?"

"This is where I was born."

"No. You were born in a crystal forest, just now," he joked.

"Pitch."

"Sorry."

He put his arm around her and continued to stare at the mansion.

"This isn't where I found you," he said, referring to the night he'd saved her from her mother.

"This is where I lived with my real parents before they died."

"Real parents."

"My biological parents. The lady I lived with when you visited had adopted me from an orphanage not too far off this road. She was really excited, at first. As soon as she found out who my parents were and what kind of people they were, she hated me. Yet, she refused to give me back…"

"And your biological parents?"

"My mother was a descendent of the one known as Caligula. She was born in Italy, then immigrated here after she moved out. She spent many years as a professional ballerina, but all of that ended when she met my father, Eliazaar Blackwest. He was a rich composer of Gothic classical music, and he took a fancy to her as soon as he laid eyes on her."

"How did they meet?"

"He saw her dancing in _Giselle_. She had the main role, and I remember him telling me that she was the most captivating thing he'd ever seen. He'd said that his heart pounded with infatuation and that he almost fell out of his seat."

"Sounds familiar…" Pitch said with a smirk; it was almost exactly how he'd met Lethia, and nearly the same as how he'd felt.

"How did your parents die?"

It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He clenched his teeth and slightly recoiled as soon as the question was asked, and he could see Lethia's brow furrowing. What an idiot.

"Lethia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—,"

"They were murdered."

That didn't make him feel any better, but it did shut him up. He didn't know what to do, so he put his lips on her head and stroked her hair, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"They had been together for over thirty years; they were almost to forty."

"How did they make it so long?" Pitch asked. Maybe he might be able to learn how to keep Lethia. Her answer made him feel much better.

"They got over their problems rather than ran away from them."

There was a slight pause before Lethia changed the subject.

"This house is legendary."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

She smiled and ran her hand over the back of Pitch's neck and through his hair (she'd always wanted to do that), and recited:

"Along a dark, forsaken road,

There stands a stark and grim abode.

An old manor house looms black and tall

To cast a grave and deathly awe.

Beyond the ancient, wrought iron gate,

A thousand nightmares lie in wait.

For dark things dwell in this house of fear,

And none but the dead dare trespass here."

Pitch was completely mesmerized by the short tale, and he wanted to know more.

"Kids come to this house on dares all the time. Who can stay in the longest? Who's brave enough to stay overnight?" She glanced up at Pitch. "This is also where I first learned about the Boogey Man."

Now he wanted to go inside. He anxiously stepped forward and pulled Lethia along the path, soon breaking into a run. When they finally reached the gates, he stopped to read the sign. _Blackwest Manor_ was carved into an iron plaque welded onto the gate. Below it was the family crest, which depicted a four-headed, four-winged leopard, one paw up and its mouth wide open, mid-roar. The gate was attached to two large posts, and in front of each one was a pillar made of bricks; on the left sat a leopard and on the right, an eagle.

Lethia opened the gate and stepped onto the property, which was dead and abandoned. They slowly made their way across the gray lawn and to the large front doors of the house, which Lethia also opened to allow entrance.

The foyer was colossal and tall and decorated with a dark, burgundy color and giant paintings of what Pitch guessed to be ancestors of the Blackwest family. A massive set of marble stairs sat in the center of the entrance hall, and on either side was another, newer painting; on the left was a pale woman with long, sleek black hair and blue eyes and on the right was a solemn looking man with long brown hair and brown eyes.

"Your parents?"

"Mhm, Amy and Eli."

Four doors lined the walls of the first floor, and Pitch wanted to know what was beyond them.

"Later," Lethia said, reading Pitch's face. But she did point to the farthest door on the left. "That's the kitchen, then the dining room." She pointed to the doors on the right. "That is the Ballroom."

She headed towards the stairs and ascended, Pitch at her heel, and came up to a hallway adorned with red and black banners bearing the family crest. He followed her to the left around the banister and entered the first room on the right. It was average sized, darkened and old. The mahogany desk was faded, and papers were strewn all over it and the floor. The chair had been upturned, along with several bookshelves and glass portraits. A globe lay shattered in pieces on the ground, and blood splatters covered the carpet and walls.

"He put up a struggle," Pitch examined.

"I've never been in here."

They stared at the mess for about another minute or two before Lethia turned and went along to the next room.

Aside the study was a nursery, much smaller and darker than its predecessor. The walls were a gloomy midnight blue, and they stood around a black crib with red, Victorian-style sheets. A toy box sat against a wall, and a few toys had been left out, untouched and forgotten. A small, child-sized bed was in the corner in front of the window, where the curtains had been drawn to allow the Moon's light to shine through.

"Who slept here?"

"No one," Lethia answered sadly. "Well, this was my room at one time, but then Mom said she was expecting and moved me next door. She left my bed in here and said I could stay the night here whenever I wanted as soon as the baby was born…"

Pitch took her hand and wiped a few tears from her cheek.

"I remember being so excited, so anxious to have a baby brother or sister. I wanted to badly to have someone to play with, someone to help me in my lonely times. Sandman never did me any justice—,"

"Sandman?"

Lethia looked at Pitch blankly.

"No one ever told you?" Pitch shook his head. "Sandman had a special interest in me. No, not that kind of interest," she added, seeing Pitch's face go sour, "it was a kind of…uncontrollable interest. Every night, he came to my room, and instead of putting me to sleep, he played with me. Every night, he'd watch and smile as I played with my little Gothic dollhouse, almost as if he was observing my behavior. But I could also tell he was trying to be my friend."

"Strange…" Pitch thought aloud.

"Not really. Sandman is a nice guy. But nature doesn't allow us to be friends. Not anymore."

A look of guilt crossed over Pitch, causing Lethia to smile and lean into his chest.

"Don't worry. I have you as a companion."

Pitch kissed her cheek and urged her on.

"I don't actually know why he chose me over any other poor, lonely child. I was rich. I had my parents. I didn't need to be the one distracting him from his work." She thought for a moment, thinking into her past, and suddenly, realization lit up her features and she grabbed onto Pitch's arm.

"The nursery rhyme!"

"What?"

"The nursery rhyme! A few nights before his unexplained visits, I recited a rhyme. It's an old rhyme that children have sang for many centuries, and it's supposed to summon the Sandman. It worked for me. And now that I think about it, it's actually not as pleasant as most would think."

"What is the rhyme?"

Lethia hesitated. She knew that if she said the rhyme, Sandy would come to her, and she didn't know if that was a good idea.

But Pitch wanted to hear the rhyme. He'd never heard of it, and she was sure he'd like it. She fought with her decision, and finally said,

"Sandman, come to me tonight.

Comfort me 'til morning's light.

As darkness falls and shadows loom,

I bid you welcome to my room.

Rest your bones beside my bed,

Lay your hands upon my head.

Cast your spell of slumber deep,

And stay beside me as I sleep.

If I should die before I wake,

I grant to you my soul to take."

Pitch was surprised by this description of Sandman. It was the opposite of what he knew the Guardian to be. It kind of reminded him of the Grim reaper. _Rest your bones beside my bed…_

"Well, time to move along now," Lethia said suddenly, pushing Pitch out quickly and guiding him to the next room. She looked back into the nursery and saw, to her horror, Sandman outside the window. She held up a finger to tell him she'd let him in momentarily.

She darted into the next room, her room, and ran right into Pitch. He jerked forward slightly, but mostly stayed rotted, staring in wonder at the Gothic display before him.

A grandiose, four-poster bed stood ground at the center of the room, with black draped and silky black bedding. A blood-red armoire was to the left against the wall, and in the back, a door, possibly a walk-in closet. Two end tables were placed next to the head of the bed. On one was a red lamp and on the other, a porcelain box and a grimly dressed China doll.

"And this is my room," Lethia said.

"It's gorgeous…" Pitch replied.

"Thanks. You…continue here. I'll be right back."

She sprinted back into the nursery and opened the window, allowing Sandman to float into the room.

"Sorry, I needed to take care of Pitch. The last thing I need is him having a conniption, y'know?"

Sandy smiled and took her hand.

She sighed. "If Pitch finds out that you're here…I can't even think of what he'd do."

He made a gesture to assure Lethia her secret was safe.

"I didn't mean to call you here. I didn't want to, not with him around. But I did want to tell him the nursery rhyme. I think it changed what he thinks of you."

A sandy skull and crossbones appeared above his head.

"No, he doesn't think you're evil."

Then a silhouette of Pitch.

"And he doesn't think you're changing sides."

Sandy sighed with relief.

"Don't give me that look."

He laughed soundlessly. Lethia smiled and walked him to the window. He floated up for departure, then turned and looked sadly at Lethia.

"Stop that."

He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her out the window.

"No, I'm not going with you. I can't."

He nodded his head viciously.

"No. I'm married to Pitch now. I can't go with you. I'm sorry, Sandy."

She gave him a quick hug and blew him a kiss as he drifted out the window with his head hanging.

Pitch entered the nursery as Lethia brushed off the tiny, golden specks of sand off her front and closed the window.

"Who was that you were talking to, Lethia?" he asked menacingly.

"Sandman," she replied without shame.

""And what, may I ask, was he doing here?"

"I summoned him, remember?"

"No, I don't remember."

"Pitch, I recited the nursery rhyme for you not even ten minutes ago."

The anger in his face lessened, but didn't completely disappear.

"Pitch, please," she said, smiling and taking his hands. Her clothes faded into a small, black silk pyjama tank and shorts; a large, red rose covered the left side of the top. "It's late. We should go to bed."

She pulled him into her room and forced him onto the bed. The couple lied down, bundled up, and cuddled close together in each other's arms for night.


	8. One False Move

The incident with Sandman was quickly forgotten as soon as Lethia had gotten Pitch back on track. He was now scaring people left and right, and each time, Lethia was by his side. Throughout the city darkness they flew, hiding in children's closets, under their beds, and in their makeshift shadows. They were jumping out of nowhere to consume the tiny humans in darkness and fear until their faces were as pale as the fur on a white forest tiger.

On some nights, the couple chose not to scare anyone, but run about on the rooftops, chasing each other, darting around each other in plumes of smoke-like shadows. They did all they could to avoid the other Guardians, lest they be on duty, and not once were there any altercations. Occasionally, they caught sight of Jack or Tooth, and they saw Sandy's sand all the time, floating around in the sky, but never did anyone get closer than a few yards to each other.

Until Pitch and Lethia's first anniversary approached.

They were at home, at Blackwest, standing on the balcony of her room, hand in hand, lost in each other's love.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Pitch told his wife. She smiled back as the two orbs sparkled in the Moonlight. He smiled back, thinking about how happy he was with Lethia, and how much she made him feel wanted, needed, and even less evil at times. Sometimes she was almost too much for him.

She brought herself closer and whispered, "I love you", before leaning in to kiss him.

But she stopped when she heard wolves howling. She looked out into the night, into the darkness, looking for the cause of the disturbance. The wolves were the sentries of the house, there to protect it and warn its owners of any oncoming danger. For as long as Blackwest Manor had stood, they lived in its courtyard in return for hospitality; they acted as an alarm.

"Someone is here," Lethia breathed.

The front door was heard creaking open, and the slam echoed around the yard when it closed. Lethia looked over the balcony and saw the outlines of the large dogs creeping towards the porch. Lethia turned and went inside to investigate the intruder.

She went into the hallway and peered around the wall into the foyer. She couldn't see who was there, only a large blob moving around below. The blob's identity remained a mystery until it dropped something that jingled.

"North!" she yelled. The form stopped moving and looked around. He couldn't see Lethia; she was hidden by the darkness, like always. She stretched out a hand and the front door opened, and she beckoned the wolves in. They snarled and growled hungrily at the plump man, and they bared their salivated, blood-stained teeth. Their yellow-green eyes glowed brightly, and as soon as North turned towards them, the dogs began to bark and advance quickly on their long-deserved meal. North yelped and ran towards the basement, opening and slamming the door behind him.

Now the wolves were looking up at Lethia and barking madly. She looked back down at them in angry confusion.

"What?!"

Just then, something knocked her to the ground. She looked up to the ceiling and saw Jack Frost hiding there. She growled and surrounded him in shadows.

"What are you doing?" he cried as the black fire licked his cheeks.

"Get out of my house!" she screamed, throwing him over the stairs' balcony and onto the foyer floor with an unknown force. The wolves closed in on him, growling in his face.

Pitch, who was too scared to come out at first, finally found the courage to see the damage of the trespassers, and what took place before his eyes was so astonishing, he was both shocked and amused by his wife's actions.

She leaped over the balcony like a dark, fiery demon onto Jack, who was now cowering in fear. Pitch ran down to get a closer look. _This cannot be happening,_ he thought.

But it was. He watched as Lethia's small, delicate form turned into a ravaging beast that howled and screamed maniacally. This monster seemed so familiar, as did the scene before him, but he couldn't place it.

And before Pitch knew what was going on, Lethia's deathly mouth opened to reveal white, gnarly teeth, which she then plunged into Jack's neck, ripping his throat out without a pause. She raised a large, black claw and sliced his head off, reaching down his esophagus to his heart, which she also ripped out without mercy. She hurled the still beating, still bleeding pump to the ground, throwing the boy's head along with it, and turned to face Pitch. She raised her giant, horned head and screeched to the ceiling.

He couldn't believe it. It was a perfect replay of the dream he'd had while she was gone, aside from the setting. It was gruesome and terrifying, and he loved it.

By this time, all the other Guardians had appeared. They missed the battle, but they were just in time to see the result. Lethia having won, they stared in dismay at the bloodied remains of Jack Frost being devoured by the wolves.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Tooth screamed at Lethia, who had quickly turned back to her normal self. She was breathing heavily, and her mouth, hands, and clothes were drenched in blood.

Sandman came in and sent the wolves away with his golden dream dust. The shine of the gold revealed the wolves emaciated figures. Their fur was black and tufts were missing in several locations. Whatever skin that was showing was either an open wound that was infected or was missing altogether, revealing the bone beneath. They were vile looking things.

The light frightened them off, and Sandman floated over to Jack. He looked up at Lethia, clearly disappointed in her and what she had done. She growled at him and he backed away, showing no signs of fear or hatred towards her.

"That was amazing!" Pitch congratulated, wiping some of the blood away from her face.

"No it wasn't!" Tooth screamed back.

"You didn't even see it! The horrors that just occurred were breathless! The force that she used to completely detach his head—,"

"Stop it! I didn't need to see it! Look at him now! Look what your monster of a wife did to him!"

"Get out of my house! Get out, get out, get out!" Lethia screamed.

"No! We're not leaving! Why would we? After what you just did!"

"And you've been hurting the children too much," Bunny piped in.

"That's our job."

"Not to this extent, it isn't!"

"Sorry about your luck. The world needs more fear and darkness, so that's what we're giving it. And we're going to start with sweet little Jamie. I'll show him what I have done, and our rein of darkness will have begun."

"No! This is wrong! Pitch has clouded your mind with evil!"

"Maybe I did that on my own."

"Once again, I will attempt to shroud the world in eternal darkness," Pitch threatened, "and this time I will succeed. Now that I have Lethia, the world will be ours for the taking, our kingdom to rule together, and there isn't a thing you can do about it."

"Not us," Tooth replied, "but the Moon."

"He can't do anything either. I'm doing what I was made to do."

"You're doing too much! You're hurting the children and that's not good!"

"I'm not good."

"We know that but this is too much!"

"Enough!" Lethia demanded. "This is how it is: Pitch was made to scare and that's what he's doing. I was made to assist him, to be his vehicle, and that's exactly what I'm doing. It's something you'll have to live with."

"You aren't supposed to have this much power," Bunny informed, unable to take his eyes away from the red mess on the floor.

"You're plans to rule the world need to stop," Tooth said.

The house was silent as they all waited for someone to argue or say something. Then Bunny realized that someone was missing.

"Where's North?" he inquired.

Lethia smiled and stepped forward slightly.

"In the torture chamber."

Tooth gasped and the door to the basement burst open. North came sprinting out of the basement screaming, but stopped at the foot of Jack's slaughtered corpse. He was silent for a second before he screamed again and everyone started panicking.

"So _that's_ what's down there," Pitch thought aloud.

As everyone panicked and Pitch watched and Lethia laughed, the Moon's light burst through the windows and shattered them, showering glass all over the foyer, stairs, and inhabitants. Lethia was expecting a return of her wedding crashers, but was instead greeted by a single, glowing, white figure that descended down to her. He was shining bright with no features at all, and Lethia was scared out of her wits.

He looked down at Jack and screamed in anger. He waved a hand over the body, returning it to its natural state and giving it life once more, and then turned again to Lethia.

"How dare you destroy my creation?! And how dare you philander with Pitch Black in such a way?! You are threatening the lives of the children of the world, and even had the audacity to end the life of another! That is not what I created you to do!" He turned to Pitch. "And how dare you guide her down such and evil, twisted path?! You've tainted her judgment of the world, and are using her to destroy it! Both of you shall be severely punished!"

Jack sat up and stood slowly. He took one look at Lethia, then at the Man in the Moon. Tooth rushed forward and pulled him away; she didn't want Lethia to have any lucky chances.

"Pitch, you are to be bound to this house forever with your wretched wife, and both of you are stuck here, only to be released on your anniversary each year. Only then will you be allowed to leave the premises and bring fear to the world. You, Lethia, will become a Guardian, the one who guards death and darkness. You will be commonly known as Eve of Death, Halloween, and many other feared names! You are being cursed by my hand for the things you have done! Be gone with you all!"

He dismissed the other Guardians and disappeared back into the sky, leaving Lethia screaming at him in agony and eternal hatred.


End file.
